The Day The Sky Burned
by TheMoonclaw
Summary: "The site was purposely simple. They had said when it had been built that it was to draw attention to the names, the people, not the event. Because it was the people that mattered, not some silly statue or monument." - A pointless little drabble from my 'verse...


It was overcast, but it hadn't rained yet.

Fitting weather for the day at hand.

The memorial site was empty, silent. Despite the fact that it was a day of remembrance, the day the sky burned had been so long ago, that only those directly affected by it still ached.

Everyone else had grown used to the memorial; they didn't even cast a second glance at the spot as they walked by, oblivious to the date.

Names were etched into black marble, lines upon lines upon lines. Something had been added after they were carved to make the letters stand out in high relief, tainted with gold.

The site was purposely simple. They had said when it had been built that it was to draw attention to the names, the people, not the event. Because it was the people that mattered, not some silly statue or monument.

And yet, the people were the things most forgotten.

Kieran let his fingers glide over the names, looking for four in particular. He'd only been to this place once before, at the unveiling, and only then because he'd been told he _had_ to go.

He didn't remember much about it except that he was angry he had to be there, annoyed that anyone thought some stupid rock would adequately honor the people who had needlessly died.

The entire affair was sickening to him at the time, but he knew it had to be done. It was what people did; they clung to memories of people long passed.

He wasn't any different.

Still, the memorial did seem insufficient.

There used to be a service every year on the anniversary of the event. There used to be visitors every day, people weeping or leaving flowers. There used to be _life_ in this place to mark where so much _death_ had happened.

But it had been too long. People had moved on, continued living, leaving behind relics of the past.

He'd never bothered to come here. They weren't here, not really, so what was the point? A name on a rock didn't mean anything to him.

And yet, for some reason, today of all days he stood in front of the memorial, fingers tracing the names of the people dearest to him.

Katrin.

Kefin.

Kaiden.

Keely.

He sighed, letting his hand fall back to his side.

Nothing had changed. They were simply names on a rock, clumped together with the hundreds that had died, lives lost, futures stolen.

There were footsteps coming from one of the walkways leading to the monument, but he didn't bother to turn around.

An old man wandered up, a sad looking rose in one hand. It had been a bad year for them.

He stopped at the opposite end of the marble, his eyes riveted to one section of names instantly, obviously knowing in advance where they were. He let the rose fall to his feet.

"No one comes here anymore." the old man said.

Kieran stifled a sigh; he'd known the stranger would want to talk.

"No, they don't." he replied quietly.

The old man still wasn't looking at him, fingers brushing along the names in front of him. "Been too long, I suppose…people forget if it's not right in front of their faces…most people, anyway…"

Kieran didn't answer. He would never forget.

Finally the stranger turned to look at him, eyes narrowing. "I don't mean to sound rude, but you don't look old enough to have lost anyone,"

Kieran gave a sad, half-smile and touched the names again. "I lost everything that day."

The man nodded slowly, and didn't offer any apologies for it.

Kieran was grateful for that. He obviously understood.

"You come here often?" the old man asked.

He shook his head, "No, I don't."

"…No one does…" he mumbled, looking down at the rose at his feet.

Kieran glanced over at him, frowning. There was a long pause and then he finally spoke up, turning to face the man. "You come."

The man looked up, blinking at him.

He shrugged, "Even if no one else does, or if everyone forgets, you come. You remember. That's enough."

Kieran sighed and let his hand fall from the marble again, taking one long, final look at the beloved names before turning to walk away.

"Maybe I'll see you here again?" the old man called back to him.

Kieran paused and shook his head, "No, you won't. There's nothing here worth remembering." He turned around and tapped his chest. "I'd rather remember what's in here."

"You should too."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: I can't say I wrote this because of Memorial Day, because I didn't; I wrote this last summer as a practice piece and never felt the need to post it. (It's pointless, after all,) But I was reminded it was on my computer because of Memorial Day, so I went and dug it out and decided what the heck, I'll post it.**_

 _ **I always feel slightly bad on Memorial Day because I am not directly effected by it. Not to say I don't try to understand, but there's a difference.**_

 _ **Anyway, here's another random and pointless story to add to my verse.**_


End file.
